


i don't need you right now, what's a few more years?

by mystrongestsuit



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, But Ethan Doesn't Know That, ED Trigger Warning, Eating Disorders, Exercise Addiction, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Songfic, Unrequited Love, unsatisfying ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 05:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15879120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystrongestsuit/pseuds/mystrongestsuit
Summary: Ethan has lied to more polygraphs than he can count. He has charmed his way through endless amounts of parties, acted the parts of infinite men, and played more double-crosses than anyone will ever know. And yet, lying to Benji feels almost impossible, and in this moment, Ethan would rather strap himself into a million lie detectors than sit in front of his best friend and pretend he’s not falling apart.





	i don't need you right now, what's a few more years?

**Author's Note:**

> massive ED trigger warning!
> 
> just written as catharsis for me, kinda self-insert tbh. I've been writing a lot lately and also been super into Mission Impossible and this ship, so.  
> Also, technically it's requited and Benji loves Ethan too but like, that wasn't the point of the story, and Ethan is an oblivious self-hating dumbass so it didn't really happen in this fic. Sorry!
> 
> please comment without compliments or criticisms!
> 
> also, if this seems inaccurate or want something changed (ED related) comment and I'll see if I can do something about it. 
> 
> thanks! 
> 
> title and interspersed lyrics from Patience (acoustic) by remembering Sunday

And I don't need you right now  
What's a few more years?  
I'll do fine on my own somehow  
Don't worry about me

Ethan has lied to more polygraphs than he can count. He has charmed his way through endless amounts of parties, acted the parts of infinite men, and played more double-crosses than anyone will ever know. And yet, lying to Benji feels almost impossible, and in this moment, Ethan would rather strap himself into a million lie detectors than sit in front of his best friend and pretend he’s not falling apart.  
But he doesn’t have a choice, he reminds himself. Benji cannot know, he wouldn’t understand and more importantly it would hurt him. Because even Ethan doesn’t understand what he’s doing, he only knows that he’s scared and he can’t lose this part of his life that has grown into something all-consuming and terrifying.  
Benji won’t understand, because Benji knows that Ethan is a gambler. It’s part of why Ethan such a good asset to the team, part of why he’s such a good agent, part of how he survives.  
But there is a difference between gambling with his life in the field for purpose or information, and gambling with his body because… because, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything anymore. Ethan shakes his head, minutely. Focus.  
“Ethan? You okay, buddy?”  
“Fine.”  
Lie. He’s losing his mind.  
Benji doesn’t look convinced, so Ethan tries again.  
“I just…didn’t sleep well last night. Was up late doing research for the next mission.”  
Lie. He went for a run to clear his head. He couldn’t stop running. The sun rose and he crawled back to the hotel room with weak legs and the bitter taste of insanity stinging at his body, like a shot of whiskey on an empty stomach or the feeling of the second after you wake up in a strange room and you don’t know where you are.  
Benji looks up from his laptop on the other hotel bed.  
“Find anything interesting?”  
“No, just what we already knew. You ready to leave?”  
Benji grins up at Ethan, closing the laptop and hopping off the bed. “Breakfast first though, right?”, he says, pulling sunglasses from his bag and walking over to the door.  
Ethan’s heart is heavy in his chest. “Right.”

He starts simple. Black coffee, no sweetener, he chokes it down fast and pointedly avoids eye contact with the sugar packets on the other side of the table. Just because he used to put sugar and milk in his coffee doesn’t mean he can afford to do it now. This is the easy part.  
The hard part comes next. Eggs and sausage and they’re in Italy, so of course they’ve got to get this and this and this, of course Benji, and Benji’s eyes are bright but nausea swims through Ethan’s blood and they haven’t even eaten anything yet. How much running to make this go away? How long on a bike, in a gym, before his brain goes quiet and lets him sleep without waking up in cold sweat? Night after night, he lies down, and jolts awake in spasms with the feeling of hands around his throat and the distant memory of food eaten in dreams pressing at his stomach. Chocolate on his tongue when he hasn’t touched a piece in years. Sleep becomes impossible. When he’s on missions like this, when he shares a room with Benji, he doesn’t bother. What if he woke Benji up? What if he saw? What if he sat with Ethan and tried to comfort him when Ethan knows the only comfort is in a couple hundred calories burned and salty sweat dripping to wash away the taste of sugar?  
No. He doesn’t sleep. 

Finally, the food comes and Ethan would break but he feels so far away, hungry and empty.

He stares at Benji. He remembers years ago, the beginnings of a crush and the soft heartache of falling head over heels for the man sitting across from him. Just sitting here would be enough to make Ethan smile, and Benji would feed off of that and grow brighter and eventually Benji would be glowing like the sun and Ethan would be hoping he didn’t go blind with how in love he was. Now, he feels nothing but numb, all the time. Yet he knows unequivocally that Benji must be protected and therefore he can never know about what Ethan does to himself. And that includes loving his best friend. Ethan has hidden his feelings for Benji for years, what’s a little bit more?

Skipped meals, muscles overworked until he can’t move, black coffee and pushups on bathroom floors. The disbelief he feels at himself when he walks into a hotel room that doesn’t keep a scale in their bathroom and he wants to hit something in childish anger. Mirrors, looking for reflections in every surface and never ever recognizing the man in them. 

He knows he’s hurting himself and that he needs to stop.  
But he finds it so hard to try when he doesn’t even feel like a real person anymore.  
How do you care for yourself when you’re not sure you’re human?  
How do you do anything but sit across from your best friend and lie and then excuse yourself to the cafe bathroom to do pushups until your arms give out?  
So, no. Benji can never know. 

I'd like to wake up and be gone  
Like a real bad memory  
Like a nightmare in a dream  
I'd love to open up my eyes  
And see you right there next to me  
Being all I'll ever need

I don't need you right now  
What's a few more years?


End file.
